Ian Hamilton - The disciple of Las Vegas

“Yeah.”

“And neither of you would be able to hide. These people would find you. They always find who they’re after, and they would take it out on you for making them hunt you down.”

“I understand,” Douglas said, sweat coating his face.

“Now, if you do cooperate, what’s the upside? You stay alive. You keep the rest of your appendages. Your reputations remain intact. The River can keep rolling as long as it operates above board. And — if I can get Lily Simmons to sign over the $65 million I want from the holding company’s accounts, I will return all the money that I just removed from your personal accounts and from The River’s operating account.”

“You would really do that?” Douglas asked.

“I would.”

“And what if you can’t get her to sign? Does our cooperation still have some value?”

She admired his nerve. “Do you have any reason to think I won’t be able to get her to sign?”

Douglas looked at Ashton, who said, “It’s not her that might be a problem. It’s her father.”

Ava stared at him. “Explain that to me.”

“I hardly know where to begin.”

“That’s not a good start.”

Ashton shook his head. “He’s a self-made man, or, as he prefers to say, ‘a fucking self-made man.’ He has a working-class background. His father was a coal miner and he was the first of his family to go to university. He took engineering, and when he left school, he joined a small company that made generators. Within five years he was running it, and five years later he owned it. Ten years after that it was one of the largest generator manufacturers in the world. It’s a success story he never tires of telling, and he’s always at the centre of it. In his own mind there aren’t many people smarter or tougher than Roger Simmons.”

“So he obviously made some serious money as well.” Ava said.

“That’s his second favourite subject — how much he’s made and how hard it was to make it. It’s how he puts a value on himself. It separates him from the riff-raff he grew up with. It brings him at least close to a level playing field with the blueblood crowd he loves to hang around with now, the crowd he married into.” Ashton looked up at Ava. “He loves his money. He was mouthing off to Lily about how much money we had lost, and she thought he was close to shutting us down until we turned things around. Now that he has the money back, he isn’t the kind of man to give it up that easily.”

“I read that he’s in politics now.”

“Yeah, that’s his latest ego trip. It’s a toss-up which he feels the most puffed up about, his business success and his money or his fucking political status.”

“I read that he’s a cabinet minister in the U.K.”

“He is, and when he gets a few drinks in him and he’s with friends or family, he doesn’t mind telling you he’s only one step away from becoming prime minister and saving the country from ruin.”

“His assets must be in a blind trust or something like that, no?”

“That’s true.”

“So his daughter is obviously empowered to manage the money.”

“In theory.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s still his money. He keeps his eye on every pound. Lily may officially administer the trust and sign all the documents, but nothing happens until she clears it with him. He jokes about it. He says just because his money is in a blind trust, it doesn’t mean he’s also deaf. They’re careful, I give them that. Nothing is ever in writing, not even an email. It’s strictly verbal.”

“But she has the authority. She doesn’t actually need his approval.”

“She won’t do anything that might upset Daddy, and not many things in life upset Roger Simmons more than losing money.”

“He doesn’t have to know.”

“You aren’t listening to me. She won’t do it without him, and I’m trying to tell you he’ll be a hard man to convince.”

Lily Simmons seems to have issues with men, Ava thought. “I appreciate your candour. I assume this is your way of making sure that if she won’t sign, it won’t come back to bite you.”

“She’s an only child and she’s her father’s daughter. The bonds are incredibly tight,” Ashton said.

“I didn’t want you to have unrealistic expectations,” Douglas added.

“I see that, and I appreciate it,” she said.

“So how about the deal you mentioned? Is it still on?” Douglas asked. Then, for the first time since she had entered the house, he stared directly into her eyes. It was a hard, questioning look, the kind she imagined he had perfected at the poker table when trying to decide if his opponent was bluffing. She stared back, unwavering, until he turned away.

“If Lily Simmons refuses to sign and I believe you haven’t interfered in the process, then I will return half of your personal money, but none of The River’s.”

Now Ashton looked at her with something other than hatred. “If Lily signs, you’ll return our personal money and all of The River’s. If she doesn’t, we get half of our own money.”

“That’s what I just said.” The offer to return the money both bought her time and acted as a sweetener. It was a lesson she had learned from her father, and one that had been reinforced time and again by Uncle. If you push people into a corner and give them no way out, they attack. It’s human nature. She wanted them to cooperate — for her sake, not theirs — and offering them some of their own money back gave them a positive and compelling reason to do so. She had figured out that both cared more about their money than their reputations, and the interest her offer had sparked was proving her right. She knew she had an agreement.

“This isn’t so hard, gentlemen,” Ava said, holding out her hands, palms up. “Choice one: don’t cooperate or pretend to cooperate, and lose your reputation, your business, your money, and your lives. Choice two: do as I say and keep them all.”

“You have a deal,” Douglas said.

“How about you?” she asked Ashton.

“I’m in,” he said quickly.

“I thought you might be,” Ava said. “Now, I do need to stress one thing — there’s no time limit on our agreement. It doesn’t expire in a month, a year, or ten years.”

“That’s clear,” Douglas said.

A noise erupted from the kitchen. Carlo and Andy were hauling in the man who had been shot in the leg. They stood on either side of him, holding his arms, as he hopped in. Douglas looked at him with disgust.

It took fifteen minutes to get everyone double-taped and lying in separate rooms. When they were settled, she said to Carlo and Andy, “Take their wallets and go through the drawers. Make it look like a robbery. You can keep whatever you find; just don’t use their credit cards. When you’re done, come outside to the car.”

As Carlo and Andy started going through Douglas’s things, Ava went outside to join Martin. “We’re just finishing up,” she told him as she slid into the passenger seat.

“And?”

“Here is a confession signed by both of them,” she said, passing him a copy. “It could be useful if the Chief ever has an issue with them.”

“What are you going to do with it?” Martin asked.

“It’s a bargaining chip.”

“Why do you need one?”

“I only got back a little of the money they stole. The bulk is sitting in an account in Cyprus and it takes three signatures to release it. I have only two.”

“Who is the third?”

“Ashton’s fiancee, and she’s in London. I’m going there tonight.”

“What about them?” he asked, pointing to the house.

“They’re tied up and will stay that way until I can get Carlo and Andy and you out of Las Vegas.”